


stitches

by HeiszKetchup



Category: RWBY
Genre: Ruby's in it but for like two lines, this is just one of my many headcanons, which i have far too many of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeiszKetchup/pseuds/HeiszKetchup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's got something they're afraid of, even a certain unruly blonde. </p><p>CW for stitches and injury; if that's something that makes you uncomfortable, then it's probably not a good idea to read this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. reaction

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have come as too much of a surprise, but neither Blake nor Weiss expected it. To think that the grand, fearsome, headstrong Yang Xiao Long would be afraid of such a trivial thing was tantamount to ‘traitorism,’ as the blonde herself would put it, but for it to be such a strong fear was even more unfathomable. Yet, the truth was eventually put before them, and neither woman of the black and white pair could dispute it.

Yang Xiao Long was, in fact, afraid of needles.

They discovered it on a normal day, one that followed a hunt the team had gone on together. It hadn’t been challenging – just a couple of Beowolf packs, and the stray Ursa – but Yang had been a bit reckless, snagging her arm on bone armour in an overpowered punch. The result of her move left a deep gash in her arm – one that the blonde vehemently denied feeling much pain from at first, until Weiss poked it and Yang let out a scream so loud it nearly brought another pack running their way.

After about an hour of letting it slowly bleed, wrapped up in a tight bandage, Blake, Weiss, and Ruby had come to the conclusion that in order for Yang’s aura to be able to heal it, the blonde would require stitches.

Which was how Blake found herself trying to coax the brawler out of their dorm room later that afternoon, following up on Ruby’s advice. Weiss was attempting to help, though she was a little less persuasive, and a lot more threatening than her Faunus teammate. While Blake used reasoning, Weiss used reasons that fell more along the lines of ‘I’ll freeze your limbs and drag you out of the room on my own if you don’t comply.’

The whole reason they found themselves facing such a stubborn blonde was unknown to either of the women, but they had been forewarned by Ruby. Their fearless team leader had pulled Blake aside when they’d reached their shared home, Weiss leading a sulking Yang into the dormitory ahead of them.

“Make sure you actually accompany her to the hospital,” Ruby had warned, her silver eyes belaying the seriousness of the request, “Or else she won’t go on her own. She’ll say she did, and we’ll find out a week later that her arm is still bleeding all over the place, and then Weiss will attempt to kill her for staining the white upholstery.”

Blake had blinked, both confused and completely in agreement over the heiress’s supposed future reaction.

“Alright,” the dark haired woman had agreed inquisitively, “But why?”

Ruby had nervously gnawed on her lip, a habit Blake had picked up on years ago to mean that the younger woman was trying to hide something.

“Yang doesn’t like stitches,” Ruby had supplied eventually, the simplicity of her statement clear evidence that the situation was, in fact, not simple at all.

Blake hadn’t decided to press the issue, though, instead nodding her compliance and watching their leader disappear in a blur of rose petals, off to deliver a report to Ozpin. Now, however, half an hour later, she was really starting to wish that she’d asked Ruby _why_ Yang hated stitches so much, to the point when neither of her teammates could get her to leave. If nothing else, it would have provided some level of insight, and possibly even blackmail leverage.

However, without that information, Blake and Weiss did their best regardless. It was a combination of threats, reasoning, and flat out pleading that eventually got the blonde to agree to go, begrudgingly following her partner and her friend along like a kicked puppy. Well, less dejected than simply unimpressed, but you get the idea.

“Yang,” Weiss growled, “Just let the doctor examine the wound.”

The blonde currently sat on an examination table in the hospital room, blonde locks providing a stark contrast against the shiny metallic surfaces around her. She kicked her feet grumpily, giving the fully-grown woman the appearance of a child, much to Blake’s amusement and annoyance.

The Faunus sat beside her white-haired teammate, who was sitting straight up in the worn chair, her clothes sinking into the threadbare fabric. Blue eyes were narrowed in the direction of the unruly blonde, who leaned away from the touch of the doctor flitting around her, attempting unsuccessfully to look at the still-bleeding cut on her arm.

Blake rested a hand on top of Weiss’s, giving the heiress an understanding glance before turning to face Yang.

“Yang,” she said flatly, drawing the blonde’s attention towards her.

The look from amber eyes said everything words couldn’t, both commanding and threatening – enough to make the blonde finally sit still, allowing the doctor to fully unwrap the bandage wound around Yang’s bicep.

After a minute of poking and prodding – much of which Yang flinched away from, more out of annoyance than pain – the doctor sighed, nodded, and stepped away.

“Good call on bringing her here,” she said, addressing the monochrome couple sitting in the chairs behind her, “The wound wouldn’t have healed properly otherwise.”

She turned back to Yang, giving a smile she probably meant to be encouraging.

“You’ll need stitches for it,” she stated, already turning away to go find the supplies she needed in the cupboards of the room.

Her moving away allowed for a clear view of Yang – and, as a result, a clear view of the expression that passed the brawler’s face at the doctor’s diagnosis. Tan skin paled, the freckles that dusted her cheekbones standing out as if they had been drawn on with a marker. Lilac eyes widened slightly, golden brows furrowing as she swallowed nervously.

Blake and Weiss exchanged a glance – neither of them had seen the girl look so anxious before, save for a few life-threatening experiences. Certainly never over something as trivial as _stitches_ , for crying out loud.

The doctor turned back around, placing things on a metal tray with a clatter that rang throughout the room, causing Yang to flinch. The blonde avoided the amber and blue gazes sent her way, instead letting her sight fall on anything but the pair sitting in the corner – the scuffed toes of her boots, the shining tile floor, the illustrated posters hanging on the wall. It didn’t stop her teammates’ stares, however – nor their noticing of her scarred hands clenching the edges of the examination table.

“I’ll give you a shot of anesthesia, to numb the area first.”

“Uh, no!”

Even the doctor looked confused by Yang’s sudden refusal, her voice coming out louder and sharply than she had meant for it to.

“I mean,” the blonde began to clarify, swallowing to get her voice back under control, “I’m fine without it. It doesn’t really hurt at all.”

“It’s a deep wound,” the doctor replied, confusion and doubt both colouring her tone, “It’ll definitely hurt without it.”

“That’s fine,” Yang answered, flashing a grin that was meant to be encouraging, but appeared as anxious, “No point in wasting it on someone who doesn’t need it.”

“Yang–”

Blake cut off Weiss’s retort with a squeeze of her hand, shaking her head almost imperceptibly when the heiress looked at her in confusion. Whatever was going on with Yang, forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do wasn’t going to help matters any – and quite frankly, the pain might do the girl some good in getting her nerves back.

The doctor looked back and forth between the pair and Yang, before shrugging and picking up the thin needle, passing the black thread through its eye with an ease that spoke of years of practice. She placed it back down and took a hold of the small tray, placing it on the counter beside where Yang sat. She moved towards Yang, her steps even and natural, though the blonde watched her warily, almost as though she were a predator that might strike at any moment.

The doctor reached behind her to grab a cotton swab soaked in rubbing alcohol, before gently taking hold of the blonde’s injured arm. Yang winced at the contact, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked away. A minute later and the wound was clean, a small amount of blood slowly trickling from the edge of it.

Tossing the cotton into the trash, the doctor reached for the needle, glancing quickly at Yang before moving her arm upwards. Yang didn’t react, her eyes having shut in what many would read as concentration, but that Blake and Weiss knew well enough by then to recognize as an attempt of keeping control.

That control broke the moment the needle touched her skin, a sudden wave of heat spreading through the air at the contact. The doctor pulled back the needle immediately, feeling the heat that was emanating from the blonde. Yang’s eyes sprang open, awash with a mixture of guilt and fear, tinged slightly from the red that had begun to bleed into her pupils.

A moment of silence passed, before Weiss’s voice cut through the air.

“Yang…” she trailed off, not entirely sure of where to go with her words. Yang, on the other hand, nodded in reply to a question that hadn’t been asked.

“I know, I know,” she muttered, her voice shaking slightly, “I’m sorry. Just… give me a second.”

And so they did – the occupants of the room waiting with baited breath, watching as the blonde took several deep breaths, letting the tension in her muscles ease out the same way the crimson in her pupils did. A minute passed, before she looked back towards the doctor with a small, crooked grin that wavered between sheepish and uneasy.

“Sorry, doc,” Yang said abashedly, “Let’s try that again?”

“Yang, wait.”

All their eyes went to Blake at that, who had stood and now was walking towards the blonde. She came up to Yang’s side, looking at her partner oddly for a moment, as though lost in thought. The brawler swallowed nervously, caught between asking if something was wrong or just keeping her mouth shut.

Blake broke the eye contact a moment later, glancing down as she slowly reached out and took hold of Yang’s free hand. Brushing calloused fingertips against scarred knuckles, the Faunus looked back up at her teammate.

“Squeeze my hand,” Blake said evenly, wrapping lithe fingers around the brawler’s warm palm.

Both Weiss and Blake watched the blonde’s reaction, waiting for an outburst of some sort, waiting for her to protest that she wasn’t a child, that this wasn’t necessary. Neither expected the brawler to cast her eyes down, then nod slightly.

Surprised, Blake took a moment to stare worriedly at her partner, before she shook herself from her reverie and turned to nod at the doctor, who still stood waiting for confirmation that it was okay to continue.

The doctor returned the nod, reaching again to take hold of Yang’s arm. The heat rose slightly once more as the needle touched her skin, but only slightly, and not enough to cause alarm. The blonde clenched Blake’s hand as it broke through the skin; her eyes clenched shut once more.

The process passed fairly quickly – eleven stitches, the black thread looped evenly through her skin, neatly closing the cut. Yang’s grip only increased throughout the process, Blake vehemently keeping the pain from showing on her face. The blonde’s eyes stayed as the doctor continued her task, and Blake kept her focus on her partner’s reaction, noting the lines of stress that refused to go away.

Only once did Blake focus elsewhere – when she heard the heiress, still sitting across the room, whisper Blake’s name softly in concern. The Faunus in question had shot her a look, she herself knowing how tight Yang was holding her hand, and that it would undoubtedly bruise the next morning. The dark haired woman didn’t dwell on it, however. If it helped Yang get through whatever…. _This_ was, then she was willing to give up the feeling in her fingers momentarily.

Only when the stitches were finally finished, the procedure ended with a final snip of scissors, did Yang release her hold on Blake’s hand. Her eyes, however, stayed closed, her breaths struggling to pull in air deeply. Blake reversed their former positions, she herself now holding Yang’s hand.

“You alright?” she asked, hearing the uncertain footsteps behind her as Weiss came up to stand beside her.

Yang nodded, eyes still screwed shut.

“Fine, fine,” she said, opening an eye to peer at her worried teammates. Concern shot through the monochrome pair at the sight – despite Yang’s words of reassurance, her eyes were a deep crimson, her semblance well and truly activated. No flames flickered around them, but the heat in the room had yet to fade – though, Blake took it as a good sign that it hadn’t increased, either.

Neither Blake nor Weiss mentioned it – they knew that Yang was just as aware as the rest of them what colour her eyes were; the room to the brawler had to be awash in red. The doctor, however, took note of none of this, instead returning to the blonde, wiping away the excess blood that had spilled during the procedure, and beginning to wrap Yang’s arm in a thick, heavy bandage.

When she had finished, end of the bandage fastened tight with metal brackets, she stepped away from her patient and her companions, giving them all a slight nod before taking her leave from the room. Only as her footsteps receded down the hall did Blake feel the heat finally start to trickle out of the room, leaving an odd chill in the air – it appeared that for Yang, all threats were gone.

The blonde herself finally opened her eyes in full, last vestiges of red bleeding out of her pupils, their usual vibrant hue returning. Yang took a deep breath, letting it out heavily as she withdrew her hand from Blake’s, leaning back and stretching her arms high above her head. She winced – though, whether it was from her arm or the multiple cracks that emanated from her back was unclear – and stood up, stamping her feet to get feeling back into them.

She looked around the room; pointedly ignoring the concerned and suspicious gazes from her partner and her teammate, respectively. Then she grinned, and jerked a thumb in the direction of the door.

“Man, I’m starving!” she remarked energetically, traces of any fear shown before now hidden away, “what do you say we get out of here and catch us some food, yeah?”

Without waiting for a reply, the blonde brawler turned and strolled out of the room, her boots clacking against the floors of the hospital halls. Weiss turned to look at Blake, the pair communicating in a single glance their mutual confusion, frustration, suspicion, and concern. With a shrug indicating that there was nothing else they could do for the moment, Weiss turned to follow their blonde teammate from the room.

Blake stood in the small room for a second longer, still confused and worried by her partner’s behavior. She’d seen Yang startled before, maybe even nervous, but never flat out terrified, as she had been before. Suddenly, Ruby’s comment of “doesn’t like needles” seemed far too miscalculated, and grossly underestimated. There was far to it more than there seemed – Blake made a mental note to ask Ruby about it later. But, with no way to do so in the current moment, Blake followed suit with her teammates, and left the tiny room.

 


	2. recovery

It should have been obvious to them all that walking from that room wouldn’t have ended the matter completely, but Blake and Weiss didn’t think about it, knowing that Yang didn’t want to discuss the matter further. Still, it had almost been foolish of them to not expect anything more to happen – which resulted in both Blake and Weiss being taken off guard late that night, when moon had already both risen and fallen.

Blake woke to a room bathed in darkness, and one that was awash in intense heat. Instantly she was kicking off her covers – partially to move and get herself out of the bed, and partially because they suddenly felt suffocating – and moving to look at the heiress’ bed, ready to shake Weiss awake. All of them had nightmares from time to time – fighting monsters of literal darkness didn’t help, and neither did their pasts – but Yang, out of them all, had them the least. To make up for that fact, however, Yang’s were, arguably, also the worst.

Her semblance engaged, sudden waves of heat waking the room – the team had found out the hard way that attempting to wake her up only resulted in her panicking, eyes crimson and wide. After Ruby had been accidentally thrown off of the bed, they’d decided just to let the brawler sleep through the nightmares, rather than face possible injury. Weiss used dust to bring the room back to a normal temperature, and they all slept on.

That night, however, Blake woke to find Weiss already missing from her bed. Addled from her recent awakening, the Faunus took a moment to process the information, before she heard panicked whispering from above her. Blake stuck her head out to peer up at the bunk above her – her suspicions were confirmed when she saw two pale feet on the side of the bunk, a white nightgown kneeling on the side of the bed.

“Weiss?”

Blake saw the heiress startle as she pulled herself up beside her on the bunk, but her concerns for her teammate were immediately overtake by her worry for Yang. This close, the air was stifling, the heat heavy and hard to breathe. The blonde had kicked her blankets every which way, sweat beading on a furrowed brow, breaths shallow. Her fingers clenched the bedding around her, and Blake knew that if they were to wake her, Yang’s eyes would be a deep, vibrant red.

“Why aren’t you using the dust?” Blake asked Weiss, worried and confused.

“I am!” the heiress shot back, panic slipping into her rebuke, “It’s not working!”

The Faunus brought her attention back to her partner – she knew, as well as Weiss did, that there was only one option remaining if the dust wasn’t having any effect. They’d have to wake Yang up.

“Weiss,” Blake began, pulling the heiress’ attention back to her, “I’m going to wake her up.”

Weiss opened her mouth, predictably to protest, but Blake shot her a look that kept the words in her throat. Weiss didn’t look happy, but she nodded anyways, and Blake returned the gesture.

They changed positions, Blake carefully taking her spot beside Yang’s left shoulder, while Weiss stayed by her right. The pair maintained eye contact, as Blake held up a hand, three fingers raised. Weiss nodded, and Blake slowly pulled her fingers down, a silent countdown.

When all three fingers had fallen, Blake turned to her partner, pulled back her hand, and slapped Yang across the face as hard as she could.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Yang shot upwards, the crack of the blow echoing through the room. Immediately Blake and Weiss dodged the wild, disoriented punch thrown their way – after Ruby’s unexpected acquaintance with the north wall, they knew to avoid the violent reflex. As the blonde lunged forwards, the monochrome pair grabbed her shoulders, holding tight to the fabric as to not burn their hands on her skin.

Slowly, and carefully, they pushed her back down; Yang’s resistance receding as she slowly woke up.

“It’s alright,” Blake whispered softly, watching eyes that flashed from crimson to lilac and back again, “It’s okay.”

She continued to whisper it to the blonde, a quiet mantra as slowly the tension eased from the brawler’s muscles, and the air began to return to normal. Weiss and Blake continued to wait, letting Yang chase the last of her night demons from her mind. After a minute or so had passed, the blonde pulled her hands up to cover her eyes, sighing heavily as she did so. The pair beside her pulled away their own hands, letting the girl sit up.

They sat in silence for a moment, no one really wanting to break it.

“Sorry.”

Yang’s apology echoed in the quiet room – Blake shot a guilty glance towards Ruby’s bed, before remembering that the redhead had gone off with Nora and Ren on a short mission in the city that night. In the panic and confusion, she’d completely forgotten about their fourth member.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Weiss’s voice pulled the Faunus out of her wandering thoughts, “We all get nightmares. It’s nothing you can control.”

Judging by the way Yang’s hands clenched at this comment, it appeared that the blonde didn’t think the same way. But when she didn’t say anything more, Blake felt her thoughts drift to find the answer as to why herself.

It was obvious that the day’s earlier events had caused the nightmare – though, why it had been so pressuring to Yang, she had no idea. She knew as well as anyone else that everyone had their own fears, but this almost seemed… different. Blake let her mind wander, jumping back to events that had happened in the time she’d known her partner, anything that could bring on such a fear.

Few things came to mind – rough combat practices, brawls in nightclubs, a wink of merciless pink and silver.

Blake’s eyes widened.

“Yang,” she began, watching as the blonde glanced in her direction, “You were dreaming about Neo, weren’t you?”

The way the brawler tensed at the name answered the question for her. Weiss tensed as well, but for different reasons – the same, sudden realization Blake had had.

In retrospect, Blake could have kicked herself for being so stupid. It was obvious how needles could be related back to the themed villain – the woman’s weapon, a thin silver blade drawn from within the innocent parasol, was just a larger version of a needle. Whether or not Yang had been afraid of the objects before they didn’t know, but Neo’s maniacal habits would be enough to foster a fear.

Weiss, who had yet to say anything, gently reached out and tapped the blonde’s forehead, drawing her attention back to them.

“Dunce,” she said softly, “You should have told us.”

Yang cast her eyes down, before speaking softly.

“I’ve never liked needles,” she said, the words once again understating the truth.

“Even before Neo?”

At the villain’s name, Yang’s fingers tightened again, but not to the same extent as before.

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice rough, “Ever since I was a kid.”

Blake and Weiss said nothing, knowing the brawler had more to say. Yang sighed, before looking up at them and continuing.

“They were the one thing that seemed scary. Punches and kicks, bats, even swords didn’t scare me. Those could bruise, or scratch, or even slice, but… needles just… went through. To think that something could pass through skin, even aura so easily, I just…”

She let her sentence trail off, shrugging in lieu of words.

“And Neo didn’t help that any,” Blake added, watching Yang nod in reply afer a moment.

“Why didn’t you tell us any of this?” Weiss asked, trying and failing to keep a stern, worry washing over her words.

Yang shrugged again.

“I’m not sure,” she said, “I just… I just didn’t…”

“You didn’t want to seem weak.”

Blake’s words startled Yang and Weiss both; their reactions to the words, however, were different. Weiss looked surprised, then upset; Yang dropped her gaze, letting her bangs hide her expression.

Silence hung around them, and then Blake moved forwards, reaching out and pulling Yang into a tight hug. She felt the blonde tense in surprise – the Faunus was rarely the one to initiate contact – but a moment later felt tentative fingers grasping at the back of her nightclothes, trying to find purchase in the thin fabric.

“You aren’t weak.”

Yang’s grip tightened at Blake’s words.

“You are not weak,” the Faunus reiterated, pulling slightly away to look into the brawler’s eyes, “Not for being afraid, not for having nightmares, not for any of this.”

Yang opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off by Weiss before she could speak.

“You went up against a psychopath who used a weapon that played off of your childhood fear,” the heiress said, her tone blunt but comforting, “It’s only natural that something would come out of that.”

“We’re all afraid of something,” Blake reassured, “and that’s okay.”

She reached out to take hold of Yang’s hand, guiding it slowly to her ears, no longer wrapped beneath her bow. She winced slightly at the gentle contact, memories of touches far less gentle, of tugs and tears from years before.

“I’m afraid of dogs, remember?” Blake asked softly, seeing the nod sent her way, “People always assume it’s because I’m a cat, because that’d make more sense, because it’s funnier.”

She swallowed around the lump in her throat, forcing memories back down.

“They used dogs at the Faunus rallies.”

Yang’s hand slowly pulled back from her ears, and out of the corner of her eye, Blake saw Weiss tense up. The Faunus took a moment to recover herself, before smirking and tilting her head towards Weiss.

“And we both know what Weiss is afraid of,” she said, grinning with Yang at Weiss’ noise of incense.

“So, see?” Blake continued, “We’re all afraid of something. And that’s okay.”

Lilac eyes focused on her, and a tentative smile slowly came onto Yang’s face, her freckled cheeks rising and her eyes crinkling slightly. The three sat in silence for a moment, before Weiss broke into a yawn, mouth widening before she could cover it. Blake and Yang both laughed at the sight, before the Faunus spoke.

“Well, that’s our cue to head back to bed,” she said with a grin, her tone turning serious as she addressed her partner, “You going to be okay?”

Yang nodded, wearing a grin of her own.

Blake chuckled, giving Weiss a slight push towards the edge of the bed, she herself moving to follow.

“Good,” she said, watching the heiress drop down towards the floor, ”Because we both know how Weiss gets when she hasn’t had her beauty sleep.”

Ignoring the angry splutters aimed towards her, Blake dropped down to her own bunk, crawling back under the covers, which were mercifully still warm. The three exchanged soft “good nights,” voices already heavy with sleep.

Just as Blake felt herself drifting off, a soft voice from above her spoke out, nearly so quiet that she missed it.

“Thank you.”

The Faunus didn’t reply, but instead smiled as she pulled the blankets closer around herself, before falling asleep.

Above her, Yang’s fingers traced over the soft white bandage that covered her stitches, back and forth, until she too fell asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just a headcanon of mine that I really wanted to write down. That's about all there is to this one!


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